You Hold My Shattered Grace In Your Hands
by Jameson Rook
Summary: Supernatural angel-strength. It was totally a thing. Dean had seen it firsthand, between Cas shoving an armoire in front of the bathroom door to keep Sammy locked in when they'd had to deal with famine, the way that Cas had beaten the hell out of him in that alleyway, and the way that he'd lifted the back end of the Imapala when they'd gotten stuck in some mud.


Disclaimer: Supernatural and all of its characters belong to Erik Kripke and the CW Network. Supernatural angel-strength. It was _totally_ a thing. Dean had seen it firsthand, between Cas shoving an armoire in front of the bathroom door to keep Sammy locked in when they'd had to deal with famine, the way that Cas had beaten the hell out of him in that alleyway, and the way that he'd lifted the back end of the Imapala when they'd gotten stuck in some mud. However, despite all of that evidence, it still shocked the hell out of him when the door to his bedroom swung open with resounding force, practically quivering on its hinges. He shot up off his bed, the comic book in his hand fluttering to the floor and his grip going around the gun on his night stand. He pointed the muzzle at the intruder, but his mouth dropped open when he he saw fiery blue eyes staring back at him from under messy, dark hair.

"Cas?" He breathed, lowering the gun to the table and taking a step toward the angel. A broad grin fell across his face. "Damn, it's good to see you, man." He muttered through an overwhelmed chuckle. Cas' face didn't change, the grim line of his mouth and tight set of his jaw throwing Dean off. The softest that had been cloaked underneath the 'warrior-of-the-mothafuckin-Lord' mask since the first time Dean had made him laugh was completely absent in his gaze. "Cas, what's...what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Dean." Cas whispered, his voice a soft growl in the silence of the bunker. He was about to question the angel when he noticed the glint of a blade peeking out from under the sleeve of Cas' trenchcoat.

"Cas, what...what are you doing?" He whispered, outstretching his hands in the hopes of calming Cas down. The other man swivled the blade in his hand, shrugging out of the trenchcoat with inhuman finesse. Dean's eyes watched with caution as Cas rolled up his sleeves. The angel's face broke minutely, his eyes pained and terrified as he reached up to grasp the sides of his head. He let out a strangled, muffled cry and shook his head.

"_Please_," He whimpered, his voice quivering. "Please don't make me do this. Naomi, please." He cried out.

"Who's Naomi, Cas?" Dean questioned, trying to keep his voice low and even as he edged back toward the night stand. Cas' head snapped up and he pointed the knife towards him.

"Don't try anything." He snarled, crossing the room and pinning Dean to the wall. His body was all hard lines and ridges of taut muscles, exactly the way that Dean remembered it being in the alleyway. The blade of the knife rested against the soft skin where neck met jaw, and the soft rasp of Dean's stubble brushing the blade when he swallowed echoed through out the small bedroom.

"Cas, please, what...I don't know what's happening in that noggin of yours, but whatever it is, we can fix it." He hissed through clenched teeth, afraid of speaking freely and causing the blade to split his skin. Cas' face was millimeters away, his nose nearly brushing Dean's and his warm, humid breath puffing over Dean's chin.

"You _can't_." He whimpered, his eyes welling with tears that Dean had never even thought were possible from the other man. His chest twisted painfully at the sight. He felt the pressure of Cas' forearm over his chest increase, and he was pushed further against the wall. The other man crowded against him, slotting their hips together and pressing their chests flush against one another. The pressure on the blade increased, and Dean started scrambling through his mind for someway out of the situation. When the idea clicked into his head, he immediately cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner.

He reached his hand up, grasping Cas' wrist and attempting to pull the knife away, but it was of no use against the angel's steel grip. He sighed quietly and locked eyes with Cas, choosing to go for a more logical approach.

"Cas," He whispered, his nose brushing over the other man's as he gestured to the knife. "Give it to me. Please? You gotta fight her, bud. It's _me_, for God's sake. Look at me, Cas. _Look at me_. It's Dean. You don't have to do this, please..." He watched the struggle of emotion playing across the usually stoic angel's face before his hand began shaking and he slowly began to pull the blade away. When it was far enough away from his skin that Dean wasn't concerned about corotid artery damage, he surged forward and pressed his lips against Cas'.

The spark between their lips was electric and made all of Dean's legs tingle. Cas stiffened under his hands, but he reached up, tugging the knife away and dropping it with a clattering to the floor before tangling his hands into Cas' hair. Shaking hands came up and rested on Dean's shoulder blades as a parade of images began to flash through his brain.

There was a white room, and a woman in a grey suit doing a damned good impression of Sam's bitchface behind a desk. Dean tried to glance around, but his gaze remained locked on the women as she walked closer, some sort of drill clenched in her hands. It was only then that he realized that he was shackled to a chair. The drill was getting dangerously close to his eye when he broke the kiss, a terrifed scream ripping from his throat.

His eyes flew open, tears streaming freely down his face, as he clung to Cas, his fingers clutching the white dress shirt as if it were the only thing keeping the laws of gravity in place. Cas shushed him soothingly, whispering into his hair and running his hands down the length of Dean's back.

"W-what was that place?" He whimpered, his face burying into the crook of Cas' neck.

"That was part of Heaven. The woman was Naomi. She's been...controlling me. She's the reason that I," He trailed off, swallowing thickly. Dean lifted his head to look him in the eye, urging him to continue. "I killed Samandriel because of her, Dean. After everything that I..._we_ went through to save him, I killed him because she ordered me to." He whimpered, his gaze falling to the floor between them.

"Hey, Cas, that wasn't...you couldn't help it. It wasn't your fault, man. That's not on you" Dean whispered, but Cas shook his head in response.

"I killed him, Dean. The one angel I was going to save, and now he's nothing more then a spot of blood on my hands." Cas lifted his hands in front of him, as if he could see the stains that Dean could not etched on the ivory skin. Dean took both of the wrists in his hands and brought Cas' palms to his lips.

"Cas, it's okay now, everything is going to be alright." He whispered, allowing his hand to snake up and slide along the curve of the other man's jaw. "You're safe with me. Always." Cas gave him a breathy, sad chuckle, and Dean leaned his forehead against Cas'.

"Aren't I supposed to be the one protecting you?"

"You did. Now it's my turn to return the favor." Dean rasped, his voice low and husky. He leaned in and pressed their lips together once again, the surge of sparks between them causing Cas to gasp. Dean seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tangling his fingers back in Cas' hair and tilting his head to slot their mouths together more snuggly.

The kiss wasn't as urgent as the first one had been, but it still sent heat scorching through his stomach. And, he wasn't going to lie, the needy little whimpers that were coming from the back of Cas' throat weren't exactly hurting the growing situation in his jeans. He turned and walked Cas towards the bed, only breaking the kiss to tug Cas' shirt off, fumbling with the buttons before finally being able to slide it off his shoulders.

Cas ran the flat of his palms over Dean's chest before hooking his fingers under the collar of his t-shirt and giving a swift tug, the cloth shredding under his hands. Dean glanced down at the ruins of his shirt on the floor before glancing back up to Cas.

"I must warn you, Dean, I do not know..." An endearing blush crept up Cas' neck. "I don't know that I'll be able to control my strength if we...proceed with intercourse." Dean cringed and waved his hands in the air.

"Okay, rule number one? Never, and I do mean_never_, call it 'intercourse' again." Cas tilted his head to the side curiously.

"Are we not preparing to enage in coit-."

"I swear, if you use that word, I will shove you out of this room, and you will be stuck dealing with this," He palmed Cas' erection through his slacks, earning a belly-deep groan. "By yourself. As for the freaky strength thing, I'm a big boy, I can handle it." He smirked, stepping closer and pulling Cas against him roughly enough that their hips snapped together. They both groaned when their covered lengths brushed against each other, creating a delicious friction. "Bed. Now." Dean snarled into the kiss. Cas responded by wrapping his hands around Dean's ribs and lifting him with startling ease before tossing him onto the bed behind them. Dean squeaked (a _manly_ squeak, mind you) when his back hit the soft memory foam.

"I apologize was that...is that not what you intended?" Cas questioned, coming closer to the bed until his knees brushed the edge. Dean gave him a wolf smile and hooked his fingers in Cas' belt loop, tugging him forward and rolling them so that Cas was pinned underneath him. The angel shifted, rolling his hips up against Dean's.

"That was exactly what I'd intended, it just shocked me, that's all." He smiled, staring down into Cas' eyes, the inky black of his lust-blown pupils nearly swallowing the sapphire that was usually there. He reached down and tugged at Cas' belt, leaning in to nip at the other man's earlobe. Cas' breath stuttered, his chest heaving under Dean. "Take these off." He rasped through his teeth that were still clenched around the lobe. In the next moment, he was shivering wildly, though he wasn't sure if it was a product of his sudden angel-mojo induced nakedness, or the fact that Cas' hardness was now prodding against his stomach with nothing between their skin. "Cheater." He chuckled breathily, leaning back to appraise their sudden state of undress.

"I prefer to think of it as efficiency." Cas smirked, a devilish look that Dean could only classify as positively sinful. He filed that away look away in his memory to save for a rainy day and snaked his hand down between them. The cry that left Cas' mouth when he wrapped his hand around the other man's length, his thumb brushing over the head teasingly, had Dean painfully hard and made his hips buck down. "Jesus." He breathed, dropping his forehead to the angel's shoulder.

"Just Cas will do for now." Cas gasped. It took Dean half a second to realize that the man had just made a joke. He giggled in a rather unmanly fashion and placed a kiss to Cas' collarbone before giving him another stroke and proceeding to snake his way down the man's body, trailling wet, open mouthed kisses in his wake.

When he reached the soft trail of hair that lead to the center of Cas' pelvis, he turned to soft nips along sensitive, warm skin. Cas was squirming wildly beneath him, but Dean's fingers dug into his hips possessively, praying that they would leave bruises. He didn't want Cas to be able to walk away from this without remembering that Dean was the one to pull him back from Naomi's control.

The flat of his tongue ran along the underside of Cas' cock without any warning, causing the other man to jack knife straight up, a strangled whimper echoing back off the walls at them. Dean just chuckled and swiped his tongue over the glistening bead at the slit, the tang of salt hovering on his tongue when he swallowed down the rest of Cas.

He continued down until his nose was buried in sweat damp curls that smelled like sex and sweat and something else...like fresh air, and rain, and ozone. This was Cas' scent. He knew it well, the crisp clean scent coupling with a deep, rich Earthy scent. He hummed appreciatively around the length, suckling deeply. Cas' hands tangled in Dean's short hair as he let out a series of gasps that sounded suspiciously like his name.

He was trying like crazy to buck his hips into the caverns of Dean's mouth, but Dean's grasp held him fast. He was pretty sure that he didn't want Cas' first blowjob to end with him choking to death. He pulled back until just enough so that the head was the only thing between his lips and swirled his tongue around it.

"Unnf." Cas grumbled, the muscles of his stomach quivering widly. Dean chuckled and slid his mouth down again, reaching down and running his hands over his own length. He knew that, with the sounds and way that Cas was writhing beneath him, that neither of them were going to last long enough for anything else. Not this time anyway. Not when they'd been leading up to this for four God damned years.

His hand moved quickly over his heated flesh, sending tremors of pleasure through his body that seemed to rumble straight through to Cas. Dean could already feel the familiar tightening in his stomach, but he willed himself to hold out. _Cas first_, he thought to himself.

"Dean, I..." Cas let out another groan and a string of words that, Dean assumed, were Enochian. Well...that was kinda sexy, wasn't it... "I feel like...shit." Cas mumbled, his eyes rolling back and his head dropping against the pillow. Dean pulled off long enough to respond, his hand running along Cas' length. He twisted his wrist at the tip, and Cas yelped in aroused surprise.

"It's okay, Cas, Iet it happen." He responded before dropping his head to swallow Cas down again. A few drags of his tongue later and Cas' body went rigid before he emptied himself over Dean's tongue. There was a loud cracking sound that echoed through the room, but Dean couldn't be bothered to give half a damn. The guardians of Hell could come riding through the front door of the bunker at that very moment and he would tell them that they could wait a damned minute, fuck you very much. Nothing was going to take him away from lapping up the taste of Cas on his tongue.

Dean groaned, swallowing down everything that Cas offered him, the taste making him dizzy with need. A few uncoordinated jerks later and he was spilling over his own hand with a muffled growl.

When his vision was no longer whited out, he allowed Cas' softening length to slip from his mouth and kissed his way up the other man's body. Cas was staring down at him through heavily lidded eyes when he reached the pillow. Dean gave him a lop-sided smile and flopped onto the bed.

"That was...intense." Cas muttered, looking down at where Dean was tugging the blanket up over them.

"Told you I wouldn't let y'die a virgin." Dean mumbled around a yawn, lacing his fingers with Cas' and kissing him softly. Dean felt something pricking the back of his head and turned to see what it was, shocked when he found a splinter protruding from his pillow. "What the..." He glanced up at the head board and noted that there were distinguishable finger marks cracked into the wood. He also noted the sizeable hole in the wall just above the headboard. "Cas, did...did you_break the bedroom_?" Cas gave him a sheepish smile.

"I told you it was intense. I also told you that I didn't know if I was going to be able to control my strength. I didn't want to hurt you." Dean gaped at the damage for a moment before breaking into a fit of uncontrolled laughter.

"Holy shit," He breathed when he was able to control himself again. "We're, uh, we're gonna need a stronger bedframe, I think." Cas blushed and looked away, but Dean tucked his finger under Cas' chin and kissed the self-concious smile off his face softly. He hummed contently when they pulled apart.

"Thank you, Dean. For...saving me." Cas whispered. Dean just nodded and smiled at him, his eyes closed.

"Always, Cas. You're family. That means its us against the world, babe." Cas seemed to accept the statement, nodding carefully and settling his chin on top of Dean's head.

"I love you, Dean."

"I know, Cas." Dean chuckled. "I love you too." Cas shifted for a moment, wiggling around until he found a position he liked.

"This bed is very comfortable, Dean."

"Memory foam. It _remembers_ me."

"That sounds dangerous. How can an inanimate object remember someone? Has it taken on a sentient form?" Cas' voice was concerned. Dean sighed and shook his head.

"No, Cas. It's a figure of speech. Get some sleep."

"I don't sleep, Dean. I'll watch over you." Cas responded. Dean rolled his eyes, even under closed lids.

"Of course you will, Cas." He mumbled, sleep starting to overtake him. "And don't think that you're not fixing that wall."


End file.
